by Unknown
“I want to help you find Roxy.”
“Come inside.” Clara’s soft voice even sounded a little like hers.
It was freaky as hell. She followed the other woman through the old house. Plastic covered sofas in brown flower prints were placed facing each other in the living room. A large wood desk sat by one of the windows with the day’s mail waiting to be opened. Old photos hung on the hallway. Of Cynthia’s mother. Her grandmother and of Clara’s mom Angela.
Wood creaked with each step she took. A photo caught her eye. It was a side by side shot of her mom pregnant and then holding a baby. Something about the photos made her frown. She hadn’t seen that one before, but it looked strange.
“I’ll make tea,” Clara said from the kitchen.
Cyn’s attention snapped to the present. She wasn’t there to reminisce. Besides, that wasn’t really something she wanted to think about anyway.
She pulled out the notepad she carried from her bag and sat down by the kitchen table, laying her paper on the table cover.
“Can you tell me what happened to Roxy?” she asked, watching Clara face away from her to set the tea kettle.
Clara’s hands shook. She shoved them repeatedly into the apron over her long, brown dress. Though Cyn was curvy and not the tallest person around, Clara was heavier, with at least thirty pounds and three inches on Cynthia’s five-two frame. Apparently, she was the short one in the family.
“She shouldn’t have been seeing that boy,” Clara whispered so low she had a hard time making out her words. She wiped at the already clean kitchen counter with a rag in quick strokes.
“Josh Landley?” she said the name Amy Kemp had given her.
Clara’s fingers curled into fists, squeezing the rag. “That boy is trouble. His whole family is. The father. The mother. They’re evil.”
She waited for Clara to continue, but instead of talking, Clara returned to wiping the clean counter.
“Did you have an argument with her? Did something happen to make her want to leave? Has she done this before?”
Clara shook her head in denial. “It was that boy. He did this. He caused this. She was a good girl. Until him. He took her from me.”
The hairs on her arms stood on end. The way she said the words made it sound like her daughter wasn’t just missing.
“How long has she been seeing Josh?” She took notes.
“Too long.”
Not very helpful. It was obvious to a blind person Clara didn’t like Josh Landley. Now she needed to figure out why. And if he could know where Roxy could be.
“Have the police been here yet?”
Another negative shake of the head. “They think she left because I’m crazy.”
Damn. “Did they say that?”
Clara stopped then, turned to her, and cocked her head with a somberness to her features. “They didn’t have to. Everyone thinks I’m crazy.”
Not really what she wanted to discuss. “It’s been more than twenty-four hours, and they still haven’t looked for her?”
Clara stared deep into her eyes. So deep it made her uncomfortable. It was like looking into a mirror. Only a much more disturbing image of what she might look like in the future. “No. They won’t either.”
Okay. Enough chit chat. “Show me her room. I need to search around and see if I find anything that can help us locate her.”
She followed Clara toward Roxy’s room. Clara stopped at the door, as if afraid to enter, and pointed inside. “Everything is still the same.”
A cold chill seeped into her bones, down to the marrow. “Thanks. I’ll do my best to find where she could be.”
Clara gave her another of those searching frowns before walking away. Yeah, it was official. Her family definitely had problems.
Roxy’s room was impeccably clean for a teenager. She must take after her mother. Hell, the whole house was so clean it put Cyn’s place into the pigsty realm. She was surprised there were so few things to indicate a teenager lived there. No photos or anything colorful. The room was decorated in a navy blue that made her scrunch her nose. She loved blue, but the whole set up in there appeared to be out of an impersonal hotel.
Where were the photos, perfumes, knick knacks? Nothing. There was nothing to indicate that a teen had been in that room for a day, much less for years.
She sighed. And did a slow walk around the bed. There had to be something. Walking toward the dresser, she glanced to and fro. The curtains were pulled open, and the sun began to set. She’d need to hurry if she was going to meet up with Brock in time. Stopping in front of the dresser, she glanced at herself in the mirror. A frown marred her brows. Pulling drawer after drawer open, she was careful to search for anything that could give her a clue to where Roxy could have gone. After rummaging through all the drawers, she knew there was nothing. Frustration started to mount inside her. There was a reason the girl was gone. She had to find out what it was. With a sigh, she sat down at the edge of the hard bed. How could Roxy sleep on that thing? It was rock hard.
She glanced over to the bedside table. An angel figurine and the usual children’s guardian angel prayer on a plate stood facing the bed. The angel wasn’t just any angel. It was a figurine of archangel Michael defeating Lucifer. By far one of the weirdest things she’d ever seen on a bedside table. Then again, her whole family was more than a little strange.
With a gentle tug, she opened the single drawer on the bedside table. Graded exams and papers filled it. The scores were perfect. Roxy was a very smart girl. Paper after paper she saw proof of her intelligence. When she was done going through them, a pile sat on the bed next to her. Staring at the empty drawer brought her another sense of sorrow. This was her cousin. She’d never really taken the time to get to know the girl.
A dull throbbing took hold of her chest. If only she hadn’t been so caught up with how her family history had affected her. Maybe then she’d have made an attempt at closing the distance with Clara and Roxy. But the reality was, Cyn had the constant fear of living the life her mother had. And she worked really hard to keep the demons at bay.
“Where are you, Roxy?”
Ready to put the papers in the drawer, she noticed the bottom of the drawer was a lot higher than it should be. But it appeared to be perfectly put together, without any edges to pull or hidden cavities. Swallowing hard at the quick beating of her heart, she yanked the drawer out of the table. And flipped it over. Jackpot.
A hollow underside on the drawer allowed for Roxy to have a book holder with a journal hidden away from prying eyes. Probably her mother’s. Finally, something to show for the girl. Glancing over her shoulder, to make sure she was still alone, she removed the journal carefully from the plastic holder.
She shoved the journal in her bag and hopped to her feet. A moment later, Clara, wearing a black piece of lace on her head, jerked opened the door.
“I’m going to church service now.” The sad smile she gave Cyn, with her lips quivering, tugged at her heart.
“I’m going too. I’ll go check out the police station, and then see about talking to Roxy’s boyfriend.”
Clara glanced away, stepping away from the entrance. “It’s his fault she’s gone.”
Poor woman. “Don’t worry,” Cyn said, leaving the room and heading down the stairs to the front door behind Clara. “I’ll find out where she went.”
* * *
Brock walked into the small police station having already noted how under equipped the place was. The front door was open, and only one person manned the place.
“Can I help you?”
Rookie. He could smell the kid’s eagerness a mile away. Not to mention the way he tried to add authority to his voice.
“James Brock, FBI. I called earlier.” He pulled out his identifications and showed the officer.
The kid’s eyes went wide, and a new interest sparked. “I spoke to you, sir. Kevin Waters.” He shoved out a hand for Brock to shake. “You wanted to know about Roxy Santos.”
>
“I understand she’s missing.”
The kid shrugged his scrawny shoulders. “Yeah, but with a crazy mom, I would be too. Sheriff thinks she’s just rebelling and hanging out with some friends for a few days.”
Right. Sounded like sheriff wasn’t doing his job. “Has no one taken into account that this girl has never been missing before?”
Waters shrugged again. A slow sizzle started in Brock’s hands. He knew the dark side was pushing the angrier he got. But he couldn’t help it with incompetents like Waters and the Sheriff assuming the girl was with friends and not bothering to search for her at all.
“Sheriff Kemp thinks she’ll show up in a day or two, and her momma is being…” he raised a hand and motioned a finger in circles by his ear. “Nuts,” he whispered.
“What if she’s not with friends?”
Waters went bug eyed. “Then she’s really missing.”
Fucking hell. If this was the kind of police force they had in Holy Oaks, he and Cynthia were on their own.
“So…” Waters stared him up and down. Taking in Brock’s much larger build and height. “You here to find her?”
“Unless you know where she is?”
Waters shook his head. “Nah. But her boyfriend might know. Josh Landley. Or her ex-boyfriend, Luis Gomez. She kept going back and forth between the two.”
Interesting. Brock leaned forward, hunching his frame to take away some of the intimidation he scented from the kid. “How do you know this?”
“My cousin, Carey Torrent, she’s dating Luis now. But she used to go out with Josh before.” He grinned. “It’s like they just decided to switch partners suddenly, and Josh and Roxy hooked up and Carey and Luis.”
“Do you know why?”
Waters pulled out a stick of gum and popped it in his mouth. “Nope. They’re kids,” he said as if he were that much older. “Carey said she got tired of Josh, and apparently Luis and Roxy were on a break. Whatever that means.”
“Anyone else you think would know where we can find Roxy?”
Waters chewed his gum with his mouth wide open. He did a perfect imitation of a cow eating grass. “She did some cleaning for the Landleys. It’s how she hooked up with Josh.”
“And you know this?”
“I told you. Cousin. Carey. She was always complaining about that girl. Everything she did bothered her.”
“Thanks for your help.” He turned to go when he heard Waters call out to him.
“Hey, wait, I have another question.”
Brock mid-turned and glanced at the young officer. “What?”
“What happens if you don’t find her?”
He didn’t detect any actual evil coming from the kid. Just curiosity. “We’ll find her,” he said. “You can bet on that.”
Marching out of the station, he noticed the sun had gone down in the time he’d been chatting with the rookie. Cynthia filled his mind. Her soft brown eyes and that smile that made the blood sizzle in his veins. The animal inside him wanted near her. The wolf he carried paced restlessly. And the beast from his dark side, it wanted her naked as soon as possible. Both liked their mate’s presence. Her scent and that intoxicating aroma whenever she was aroused. So yeah, he was going to run over to be by her side, even if he broke a few speeding laws.
He pressed the speaker phone and dialed the one person he needed to talk to on his team.
“Brock?” Donovan’s voice was strained.
He knew it was almost her time to go. “How’s that case?”
“Done and handled. But…” He heard her mutter a curse. “Brock, I have to go. Vega already knows. It’s getting worse, and I can’t be here. I can’t be near him.”
“I understand. Do what you have to do. Call if you need us.”
She sighed on the other end of the line. “Thank you so much. I’ll be discreet and keep to myself.”
“What about—”
“Keep him away,” she ordered. “I can’t handle this with him around.”
Brock shook his head. He’d known Jane for the three years that she’d been on his team, and she’d never changed her mind. It would catch up to her one day. But that wasn’t Brock’s business.
“Okay. Be careful.”
“Thanks, boss. Tell Cynthia I said thanks too. She sent me a text earlier reminding me to go as soon as necessary.”
She was like that, his Cyn. Always thinking of someone else.
The small diner he’d agreed to meet Cynthia at was encased in darkness. One street lamp outside the place illuminated it with a low, yellow glow. A large, half-lit sign that read “Joe’s Place” helped brighten the parking area. A handful of older model cars sat scattered in the lot. He headed inside and noticed the instant quiet. Taking in several booths, he finally found Cyn seated at the back of the place frowning down at something. The beasts inside him wanted to touch her again. Their mate.
He marched toward her booth and almost tripped when she glanced up and smiled. The wolf pushed at the skin, and the power he’d been holding at bay lit his fingertips.
“Hey, any luck?” Her husky voice turned him hard in a heartbeat.
“Maybe.” He slid into the booth across from her, watched her eyes roam his face before moving down to his chest and stopping at his hands.
“Hungry?”
You have no idea. She must have seen something in his eyes because the scent of her arousal tickled his nostrils.
“James,” she whispered and glanced around them. “Stop that. Your eyes are turning colors, and the last thing we need is to draw undue attention.”
“I can’t help it, love. You make the animal want to come out of me.” He grinned.
Her face turned a sexy shade of red under her tanned skin and the arousal scent thickened. She’d always liked it when he spoke of his inability to control himself because of her. It wasn’t a lie either. Cynthia was the only woman in the world he’d lose control over. And he didn’t even care.
“Well…” She gulped. “This isn’t the time for that.”
He reined in his need for her. Pushed the beasts to their hiding places and willed his erection away. That last one was the hardest.
“What did you find out?” he asked.
“Huh? What?”
She muttered under her breath, thinking he hadn’t made out her words.
A chuckled escaped him.
She squinted her eyes at him. “What’s so funny?”
“The fact that I make you brain dead.”
“Stop listening on private conversations. It’s rude.”
“Sorry, love. But you already know there’re no barriers between us.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m your boss.”
He grinned. “You’re my everything.”
“Stop that! You keep making me lose track of what we’re supposed to do. Check this out.” She handed him a black journal.
The book hadn’t been in anyone’s hands in a while. Or he’d have sensed something other than Cyn’s concern. He opened the journal and found a bunch of numbers and initials all over the place.
“What is this?” He glanced up at Cynthia.
She winced. “I think it’s Roxy’s journal. Though I can’t figure any of it out. It’s all numbers and weird initials.”
He leafed through the pages while Cyn ordered her food and smiled when she ordered his favorite for him. She didn’t even realize she’d done it until she glanced at him after the waitress had gone and caught his smile.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You still like your burgers that way, right?”
Even if he didn’t, he’d eat it just to make her happy. “Yes.”
“Good. So what do you think of this?” She frowned down at the book. “I thought we’d find something in it but only a couple of words can be made out before she goes back to the initials.”
He saw her bite her lip in frustration. “You know what this means, right?”
She blinked her pretty brown eyes wide. “What?”
“You’re not going to leave it alone until you figure it out.”
She laughed and sighed. “You know me so well. I will figure this out. Now tell me what you found out.”
Chapter Six
Harsh raindrops pelted over the windshield in angry thumps. Cynthia couldn’t believe how hard it was raining by the time they got back to the house. In no time at all, the skies had opened up and let loose. The sound of thunder crackling, and lightning in the distance made her shiver. She wasn’t a fan of storms.
“Tell me why you left?” Brock broke the silence.
“Are we on this again?” There was no way in hell she was talking about the reasons she left ten years ago.
“Yes.”
“Let it go.”
“Not a chance, love.”
Every time he called her love, her stomach flip-flopped and a warm feeling spread inside her.
“I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You knew how I felt,” he said, voice rough.
She glanced at his face and saw his eyes blaze red. Uh-oh. She waited until he stopped the SUV completely before hopping out into the heavy rain. Took less than a minute for her clothes to soak and cling to her skin for dear life. She ran for the door, shoving a shaky hand into her crossbody bag, searching for the key. Water poured down from the heavens in thick blankets, and she wondered if this was a sign she was in over her head with James. By the time she found her keys, she heard the door from his side slam closed. Rushing in without a single glance over her shoulder, she tried to head for her room, but was stopped.
He wrapped a hand around her arm and tugged her until her back hit the door he’d just closed and his wet body plastered to hers.
Air froze in her lungs. She opened her mouth to tell him to move. To get out of the way, but somehow the only thing that came out was a soft whimper. “James…”
Booming thunder sounded at the same time his lips came crashing down on hers. He kissed her fully. As if he wanted to devour her lips and consume her. Driving his tongue into the recesses of her mouth, he held her captive. Every move he made only added gasoline to the raging fire in her blood. Then those hands she knew better than her own were on her. Touching. Branding. Bringing out the feelings of belonging to him she’d tried to fight. But it was useless. This man—this hybrid, was the only one who made her feel…anything.
